


no i in threesome

by flimsy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Corsetry, Crossdressing, Embarrassment, Facials, Humiliation, M/M, Pain Kink, Pinching, Porn, Spanking, Stockings, dares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:57:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimsy/pseuds/flimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wears lingerie to win a bet. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>He tiptoes a little and smoothes his hands down his chest and stomach, fingers catching here and there in the silk lacing holding the corset together.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	no i in threesome

Louis likes winning; he likes the feeling of being triumphant, he likes knowing that he's done something well or that he's achieved something, likes knowing that he was right. It's an odd feeling of satisfaction, knowing he's done something right and maybe knowing he's proven himself worthy to somebody. This applies to many things: his music, knowledge, making somebody laugh despite themselves.

He scrunches up his nose for a moment, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration, and pulls first the right flimsy black stockings up his legs, then the left, wiggling his toes. They stay up without help of a garter belt, and Louis tugs at them where they fit snugly around his thighs, humming, pleased.

He's going to win again this time, and already he's excited about it, a warm buzz in his stomach that makes him grin while he regards himself in the big mirror over the dresser, hands trailing over champagne-coloured and black satin, lace and silk.

He has got a feeling about who chose the design, but he has another feeling about whose idea the dare itself was. Ever since Liam discovered his wicked side, his penchant for unusual dares like this one has become obvious. Plateau boots for Niall, bra on stage for Zayn. Louis wasn't all that surprised when he found the box on his doorstep this morning and opened it at breakfast. 

He tiptoes a little and smoothes his hands down his chest and stomach, fingers catching here and there in the silk lacing holding the corset together. It's got a zipper - thank god - but it's hidden on the side and the corset squeezes his waist just a bit. Louis would never admit it, but, turning around to inspect his backside, his black satin briefs snug over his arse, he feels attractive in a way he's never thought he would feel. He looks _good_ \- the fabric hugs his waist and torso, accentuates his hips and makes him stand up straight, his arse rising from the hem in a beautiful curve.

He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, surprised at himself, and shakes his head, lips pursed, then looks down at this phone on the dresser, re-reading Harry's text. _send pix for proof_ it says. Louis has already won. He can secretly delete any incriminating pictures from the boys' phones later, while all of Twitter will be laughing at Harry and the others in their nappies.

He spins once more to make sure he looks immaculate, then leaves the bedroom; he'll get a drink and then find a spot with good lighting in his flat and take a couple of shots and that'll settle the matter. His mind set on a cold beer, he almost misses Liam and Harry lounging on his living room sofa, nudging each other when he steps out.

"Oh," he says and comes to a halt, curling his toes in his stockings.

"Oh, _god_ ," Liam bursts out, laughing, and the turns to hide his face against the cushions, giggling into them. Harry's staring, mouth open in half a smile, until he, too, starts laughing, slapping his hand against his thigh.

Louis blinks, shocked, and feels his face heat up, hands curling into fists at his side. "This- what-" he starts because this is so not what the dare was about and suddenly he feels like stomping his foot because they're _cheating_. He swallows and changes his stance, hip slightly tilted. "What're you doing here? Breaking and entering?" he says, unable to keep his voice calm.

"I've got a _key_ ," Harry answers between giggles, tone slightly indignant; he stands quite suddenly, hopping on one foot until he regains his balance, and crosses over to Louis. 

Liam sits up again, wiping his eyes, face red. "You look amazing," he says, shaking his head, grinning. "I can't believe you really put it on."

Louis cocks a brow at him, and ignores the way Harry is intentionally looking him up and down. "I _won_ this round at any rate," he says, pushes at Harry's chest with the flat of his hand, and strides past him further into the living room, face still hot with embarrassment, but unwilling to let them know. He's won, he thinks, and he bloody well deserves this victory.

Harry makes a small amused sound and says, "I told you the colour would fit him." Liam looks at them, grinning, and shakes his head. Louis purses his lips and takes a breath to shoot something back at the both of them for being so cheeky when suddenly a slap lands on his arse, fading out into a sting that spreads over his thigh and up his spine. He yelps, grabbing for Harry's hand when Harry jumps past him, laughing.

"Those pants are a nice touch, too," Harry laughs and Louis launches at him, glaring, kicking at his feet. Harry evades, still laughing, and Louis chases him and, underestimating the lack of friction stockings cause, slips on the polished hardwood floors. He lets out a sound of surprise, throat going tight, and turns his body to stop his fall, but Harry does so for him, catching him around the waist.

"Whoops," Louis says and pulls away, stepping onto the rug; he messes with his fringe for a moment and gives Harry a look, eyebrows raised a little because Harry's hand is still lingering on his waist. 

"You can let go now, loser," he says.

"That's right," Liam says from the couch, "give the gal some space, Styles." He breaks into another laugh and Louis turns to shoot him down with a glare, catching Liam’s gaze just before he hides his face against his knees to stifle his laughter.

"I look forward to seeing you all in your nappies tonight," Louis bites out, growing more frustrated with every minute. He tries to take a step back, but Harry won’t even let go of his waist when Louis pushes at his hand. He looks up to give Harry another look. “Are you quite-” he starts but Harry’s smirk shuts up him. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Harry says. “You’ve got a nice-” He grins again and then ducks his head and finally lets go of Louis. From the direction of the sofa comes the sound of a camera going off. Louis snaps around to see Liam raising his phone again, taking another shot. 

“I’ve got to preserve this for future generations.” He shakes his head, smiling. “Harry’s right. You look fit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Louis huffs out and stomps over to wrench Liam’s phone from his hands, Harry following after him. Liam tries to evade, but Louis is faster, deleting the last two pictures in the gallery with quick fingers while Liam protests loudly. 

“I’ve already won,” Louis says, takes a step back and throws the phone onto a chair across the living room. It bounces off the backrest and luckily falls onto the cushion. “You’ve seen me wear it. Now upload those baby pictures.”

“Cheater,” Liam bites out, face unhappy, and sits back, arms crossed. 

If this continues Louis’ eyebrows will get stuck and he’ll be frowning for the rest of his life. He gives Harry a good shove, not expecting retaliation, and is unprepared when Harry _growls_ at him and grabs his arm to pinch his side. 

“Ow!” Louis squeaks and Harry pinches him again, lower, just above his thigh. “Stop that-”

“You shoved me-” He slaps Louis’ bum again and Louis jumps, trying to get a hold of Harry’s arm to stop him from doing any more damage. Another pinch and Louis evades, fleeing around the coffee table; Liam is on the couch, giggling again, like this is really bloody funny. Louis doesn’t think it’s funny at all - he can’t run in his stockings and can’t move freely in the corset, and a moment later Harry catches up, grabbing him around the waist and hauling him around. 

Wheezing, Louis gets a hold of his hair, tugging, his other hand going for Harry’s wrist; Harry makes a pained noise and tugs him closer, eyes mad, and tweaks his thigh again, putting more pressure on his fingers until Louis shies away, letting go of his hair, wincing, and ineffectively kicks at Harry’s shin. 

“Liam-” he manages while Harry grabs his wrist, “he’s an arse, you’re not an arse, a little help here-” 

“Hey,” Harry grunts and twists Louis wrist until Louis has to bite his tongue to not make another embarrassing sound. “This is between us.” 

“Pf,” Louis chuffs; he shoots Liam another pleading look, and Liam shakes his head, face obviously torn between pity and amusement, and climbs to his feet. 

“Two on one,” Harry says suddenly, grinning past Louis. “Grab him, I’ll take another picture.” 

Louis feels his eyes widen in surprise, mind racing for a moment, but he’s too slow; Liam’s up against him within a split second, grabbing his wrists and pulling them into a tight grip behind his back, tugging until Louis has to go on his tiptoes to avoid straining his shoulders. He wiggles, tries to get free and curses loudly. 

“Payne, you prick-” he snaps, while Harry lets go of him and takes a step back, fishing his phone from his pocket. He takes a picture while Louis still tries to wrench free and when the flash goes off, Louis becomes strangely aware that he’s in a corset and stockings and that he put on black satin pants just so they’d go with the rest, embarrassment washing over him in a hot wave, rolling from the tip of his head all the way down into his toes until he feels a little weak, heat spreading over his face and chest. 

“Take another, he deleted two,” Liam continues from behind him and Harry does, then sets his phone down on the sideboard. The knowledge of two pictures of him in that outfit saved securely on Harry’s phone sends a shiver down Louis’ spine, stomach twisting a little. 

He clears his throat and attempts to free himself again, wanting to fight the way his body reacts. “Honestly, let go,” he bites out, trying to turn around to look at Liam, but only ends up wincing, shoulders aching. 

When he looks up again, Harry is staring at him, lips slightly parted; he makes a sound and then draws closer, eyes fixed on Louis waist, hips or lower. Louis inhales shakily, cheeks going even redder, and presses his thighs together. “Let _go_ , Payne,” he tries again. 

“Don’t let go.” Harry stops before Louis, still staring down, and Louis feels Liam’s hands clenching and unclenching around his wrists, then finally settle again. 

“Huh.” Harry finally meets Louis’ eyes, one brow cocked, lips curving into a tiny smirk that’s usually not reserved for any of them. 

Louis sucks his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, gnawing on it until it hurts, heart almost beating through his chest. “This is all a bit awkward.” He looks away and feebly moves his arms against Liam’s grip. He wants to squeeze out of the lingerie and get in the shower and wank, and then laugh at baby photos of the boys and feel triumphant, instead of getting a hard-on when he’s half-naked in front of two of his bandmates. 

“It’s alright.” Harry nudges his hip a little, eyes still wide and dark. 

“Come one, Styles,” Louis hisses, but shivers when Harry’s hand finds his hip again, squeezing gently this time. 

Liam makes an inquisitive sound against the top of Louis’ head, shifting a little. “What’s going on?” he asks and Louis rolls his shoulders, trying to come up with something to get out of this mess fast. 

“He likes this,” Harry says; Louis groans and squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to panic, and brings up a knee to push Harry away. 

“He does?” Liam makes another sound, but doesn’t let go; Louis can very well imagine his face, eyebrows drawn together, lips pursed in question. 

“I’m right _here_ -” He pushes Harry again and Harry laughs a little, bewildered, and fits his hand over his thigh squeezing. 

“I can see that.” He grins, showing his teeth, eyes glinting. Louis has definitely seen that look before, but it’s never been directed at him, and he can feel his knees grow a little weak. 

“Shut _up_.” He swallows, pushes his lips together and looks down, feeling himself blush even more. They’ve seen each other naked plenty of times; they’ve seen each other erect enough times, too, tour does that, it’s what happens, really, but this is different and Louis feels exposed and vulnerable. 

Liam moves and for a split moment Louis thinks he’s going to let him go, but instead Liam just shifts his wrists into one hand, and snakes one arm around his waist, pulling him back. He’s warm, his chest solid against Louis’ back, and Louis feels a rush of endorphins flood his brain, making him dizzy for a moment. 

“I’m not doing this,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut, breath caught in his throat as he tries to make his brain work. “We’re not doing this.” 

“Yes, we are,” Harry singsongs. He presses closer, tangible, hands on Louis’ hips, and nudges his nose against Louis’ neck, pressing a kiss there like he has a right, like Louis gave him permission. “Liam?” Harry asks. Louis can feel him nod and lets out a tiny whimper, hips jerking involuntarily which makes Harry chuckle against his neck.

“Noisy,” Harry says, breathing against Louis’ skin, and then slides one hand from Louis’ hips down to front of his pants, rubbing the flat of his palm over Louis’ erection, and bites down on Louis neck. Louis swallows a sound and then another until he can’t anymore, moaning loudly, pushing up into Harry’s hand. 

“Are we doing this?” Harry asks and trails his lips up Louis’ neck to his chin and Louis nods frantically, no air left in his lungs. 

“We are,” he gasps and arches against Harry who curls his fingers around Louis’ cock through the fabric of his underwear, outlining it while Liam draws a circles against Louis’ belly with his hand.

“Just helping you out,” Liam mumbles and Louis groans, head falling back against Liam’s shoulder. 

Harry echoes him, then digs his fingers into Louis’ thigh, hand just above his stocking, squeezes, then pinches, and Louis inhales sharply, head spinning. 

“Your _thighs_ ,” Harry groans; he pulls back, the heat of his body withdrawing and starts rubbing Louis’ thigh, a light pressure, moving the hand on Louis’ dick in time. 

“Fuck,” Louis grunts for lack of anything else to say, mind suddenly blank; Harry shouldn’t be saying these things about his thighs. But then again, Harry shouldn’t be getting him off either. And Liam shouldn’t put his mouth on Louis’ neck, suddenly sucking little lovebites into his skin, yet he is. 

“Let me-” Liam’s hand trails down and pushes at Harry’s until they’re both cupping Louis’ dick for a moment; Harry pulls back, curling his hand over Louis’ arse instead, massaging the flesh. 

He kisses Louis’ chin again, hummingbird touches against his skin, and then whispers, “Can I kiss you? I’d really like to kiss you.” 

Louis breaks into a laugh that turns into a moan and then goes quiet when Harry licks into his mouth as if he tastes like sugar or chocolate or something nice and sucks on his tongue until all Louis can think of his rutting up into Liam’s hand and getting Harry to kiss him some more. Just as he thinks it couldn’t get any better, Harry slaps his arse cheek again, once, twice, three times, and then again, hand leaving a burning sting that carries up through his nerves and into the rest of his body. 

He whines into Harry’s mouth and then breaks away for air when Liam snaps his arms back, making his body curve in his hands. His cock twitches in Liam’s hand, and Liam _oh_ s against his neck, tightening his grip on Louis’ wrists until Louis sees a few stars. 

This is- this is not a thing that is unfamiliar to Louis; he’s well aware of this preference, through accident mostly, but it’s never been tested like this, and he finds his cock growing even harder when Harry suddenly pinches his arse right where his palm must’ve left a print judging from the way it feels. 

Louis hisses, face scrunching up, but can’t help rotating his hips up, trying to get more friction on his cock. 

“Hey,” Liam says, fingers digging into Louis’ wrists when he presses closer, his erection suddenly pressed against Louis’ arse cheek. He slides his hand into Louis’ pants and Louis, finally feeling skin against skin, croaks hoarsely, almost coming. For a moment, he forgets that Liam was speaking, and catches Harry’s eyes, confused, when Harry say, “Mh?”

“We help each other out, yeah?” Liam continues. He pushes against Louis a little, cock tangibly hard even through his jeans, and Louis feels his mouth go dry, heart slowing down for a mad moment, until it starts hammering in his chest, beating twice as fast. 

“Yeah,” Harry replies, eyes wandering over Louis’ face. Louis nods; he’s got to because he wants them, and he wants them both. Liam’s hand speeds up on his cock, making a wet noise every time he reaches the head, the slide slick with precome. 

“I want to-” Louis tries, voice fading into a low moan at the end. 

“What?” Harry leans in and kisses him again, biting down on his bottom lip, and moves his hand to the inside of Louis’ thigh, pinching, tugging at the skin, over and over, tiny nips between thumb and forefinger. 

Louis opens his mouth to speak, something, anything, but all he manages is a loud whine, almost a sob while orgasm rips through him. He looks down, lips parted, watches as Liam pulls his pants lower, just enough to expose his cock, watches himself pulse over Liam’s hand and the ribbons dangling from his corset. He whites out for a moment, vision going fuzzy, and comes back to Liam tugging his shorts down with both hands; he steps out of them, still dizzy and glowing in the aftershocks, and only then realises that his arms are free again. 

“Look at you-” Louis looks up at Harry whose eyes are glued to Louis’ crotch. “You came on it-” 

Louis tries to say something, but the words get lost when Harry slaps his thigh hard and then grabs his own crotch with his other hand, squeezing himself through his jeans. Liam laughs behind him and Louis turns to look at him over his shoulder; his trousers are unbuttoned, the outline of his cock hard through his boxers. 

“Shit,” Louis says. 

“Yes,” Liam echoes, grinning his bloody grin, and then cups Louis’ arse cheeks in both his hands again, squeezing; Louis gasps, moaning, and Liam rubs one cheek, then pulls away only to land a blow on it a second later. “This is so hot-”

“Lou,” Harry says; he grabs Louis’ wrist and pulls until Louis has to tiptoe and Louis goes with it, body still pliant from orgasm. “Keep going, Liam.” 

_Yes_ , Louis wants to say, but closes his eyes, shivering, exhaling, while Liam repeats, alternating between his cheeks until Louis can feel them bloom, heated, his cock half-hard again. Liam stops, smoothing his hands over Louis’ skin, and then presses against Louis, the length of his clothed cock pressing between Louis’ cheeks. 

“His arse is like-” Harry starts and Liam grunts in agreement and nudges against Louis harder, tiny thrusts. He fits his hands over Louis’ waist squeezing, and Louis goes up on his toes again, moaning, head falling back. “Waist like a girl,” Liam says and Louis should be offended, but instead feels a rush of arousal heat him up again, cock suddenly fully hard against his stomach, leaking wetly against his skin. Liam sneaks a hand between their bodies, easing is down the small of Louis’ back, two fingers sliding into his crack, rubbing a little, just above his arsehole. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis breathes out, overcome, “fuck-” 

Harry makes an amused sound and his hand vanishes in his jeans, moving visibly under the fabric. “I think that’s the general idea-”

Louis whines loudly, while Liam speeds up, hips pushing into Louis harder and faster, his breath hot against Louis’ skin. “I want to come on you,” Liam says and then presses a wet kiss against the back of Louis’ neck. 

Harry makes a strangled noise and moves closer again, pops his jeans open and pushes his pants down over his cock before hooking his fingers into one of Louis’ stockings and pulling it down. “Come on his arse,” he says. He wraps his hand around his dick and starts stroking himself; Louis watches mesmerised, almost hyperventilating, and simply goes with it when Liam bends him over, his arse up in the air, head against Harry’s abdomen, so he’s staring down at the wet, purple head of Harry’s erection. He shifts his legs apart a little and Liam groans loudly and halts for a moment, pulls away, heat gone missing, and then returns, this time skin to skin, naked cock pressing between Louis’ cheeks. 

“Do yourself-” Harry gently rubs Louis’ shoulder and then trails his hand up, fingers digging into Louis’ hair, holding him still, just above Harry’s waist. Louis swallows tightly, whimpering, thinking about how close Harry’s cock is like this; if Harry pushed it would nudge against Louis’ lips, salty, earthy. He moans and wraps his hand around his own cock, jerking furiously. 

“That’s it.” Harry squeezes the base of his cock, moving his hand up and down slowly, a bead of precome pearling from the slit. 

“He could-” Liam grunts and then stops, using his thumbs to spread Louis open, his cock suddenly nudging against Louis’ hole. Adrenaline floods his system suddenly and Louis squeezes his eyes shut and leans down and licks that drop off Harry’s cock, letting the taste melt on his tongue; he rubs the palm of his hand over his own cock and comes again, gasping wetly. 

Harry’s hand tightens in his hair and Louis should’ve known, should’ve expected it, and even though Harry tries to give him a broken warning, it still comes as a surprise when his cock jerks and he spills over Louis' lips and chin. 

Liam nudges into Louis again, then lets go of his cheeks, rutting faster. He lets out a hoarse shout and comes all over Louis’ arse, pulling him open with one hand; his release drips wetly down Louis’ crack, skin suddenly sensitive when Liam thrusts against him once more. 

Louis stays still for a second and then lets out a long breath, almost collapses, holding onto Harry, thighs beginning to shake. He’s still glowing, the palms of his hands warm and golden, but there’s come drying on his face, and he can barely hold himself up anymore. 

“Boys,” Louis croaks and tries to stand. Harry catches him, pulling him up, and shifts him until his back is against Liam’s chest, Harry’s hands on his hips. Harry looks wrecked, hair sticking to his forehead, and Louis tries to laugh. He ends up licking come off his face instead, grabbing Harry’s arm for support. 

They tumble down onto the couch only a moment later and Louis curls up and uses Harry’s T-shirt to wipe his face clean finally. His head is all cotton and white noise, every sensation a spark; when Liam’s hand finds his thigh, rubbing gently, Louis lets out a sigh and presses against Harry’s side. 

“Thought you’d be a cuddler,” Liam says and Louis grunts. 

“I’m more of a showerer,” Harry adds but puts his arm around Louis’ shoulders. 

“I’m more of a _blissed out, can’t mover-er_ ,” Louis mumbles, eyes closed, lights dancing before them, sparks of the aftershock. “We can go shower, though, if you carry me and help me get out of this thing.” 

Liam laughs against his neck and nods. “We can definitely carry you,” he says.

“But I don’t know if we want you to take off that _thing_ just yet,” Harry adds. 

Oh, Louis thinks and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [aliferuined](http://aliferuined.tumblr.com) for email encouragement, and to [Em](http://hereholdthishandbasket.tumblr.com) for encouraging me to finish this at 1.30 on a weekday. 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://flimsi.tumblr.com)/[Livejournal](http://flimsy.livejournal.com).


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